The Things That Really Matter
by emeraldflame91
Summary: An introspective look into Will and how her future job as a policewoman impacts her, making her even more appreciative of her life and her family. Lame summary. Sorry.


**The Things That Really Matter**

**Disclaimer:** I don't own W.i.t.c.h. or any of the characters.

**Time Period: **Fifteen years after the end of the second season.

* * *

This was the second case of severe domestic violence that Officer Will Olsen had dealt with today. Normally, she handled cases involving drug offenses, robberies, and irresponsible drivers. She even took on the occasional (and traumatic) rape case when Sergeant Sanders assigned her to one. Will, however, was confronted with a small amount of situations involving abuse on the home-front. She had yet to come face to face with a truly gruesome circumstance, but she'd heard her co-workers discussing the scenarios that they'd resolved over lunch breaks. Will also knew for a fact that her closest work friend Sheriff Candace Berkeley dealt with them almost by the handful, and more often than not, she had relayed sentiments and stories to Will that she would've rather not heard.

When it came to her own experience with such situations, Will was confronted with them sporadically and they were mild compared to what she heard from her fellow employees' recollections. More often than not, she'd show up to the "crime scene" and the parties involved wouldn't have more than a scratch or two on their faces, claiming that the opposite person had slapped or hit them only once. Such claims led to verbal brawls, and Will found herself taking on the role of mediator or disciplinarian instead of policewoman. If she were to do the math, Will guessed that she faced these moderate and bothersome cases once every three months. Not one a day, and certainly not two.

Today had broken that streak, Will thought bitterly as she heavily pressed down on the accelerator, hoping that she would make it to the address on the west side of Downtown Heatherfield sooner rather than later. Sanders had relayed the message to her no longer than a minute after returning from her lunch break, telling her that the call had been fielded only seconds earlier. She had ordered Will to take the only available patrol car, instructing her to "gun it".

So Will gunned the car as if someone had just told her that Matt, Kaley, or Travis were being held at knife-point, maintaining the reckless speed of her vehicle until she pulled up to 1024 South Sweetclover Street. There stood a small, pale yellow, dingy house that almost seemed to droop from its owner's heavy emotional burdens.

Groaning, Will unbuckled her seat-belt, snatched her clipboard and pens from the passenger seat, and tightened the weapon belt around her hips. This was going to be a long call if the shape of the house was indicative of anything. She quickly exited the patrol car, locking it behind her, and jogging up to the front of the residence. She rang the doorbell and waited.

There were the sounds of loud, sprinting footsteps and the door suddenly swung open, revealing a woman so frail that Will was sure she would break if she did so much as lay a finger on her. She had stringy blond hair that fell to her shoulders and glassy green eyes tainted with affliction. The woman's face was marred with long, pink scratches, deep gashes were scattered across her tear-stained cheeks, and her left eye was vivid red and puffy with heavy swelling, almost making her look disfigured. To make matters worse, her shabby clothes were torn, giving her the appearance of someone who had been accosted by a mutinous cat.

Will felt her heart in her throat. She let out a fake cough, regaining her composure and fixing her gaze on the woman's agonized eyes. In turn, the victim scrutinized the officer, looking her up and down. She spoke before a slightly bewildered Will got the chance to, saying in a barely audible voice, "You must be the officer that the cops promised to send. Come in, my dear."

"Is the suspect here?" Will asked, not out of apprehension, but because it was a standard procedure at a crime scene.

"No, ma'am, he isn't," the woman muttered, "now, come in, Officer." Will followed her into the house and down a narrow corridor that led to a secluded living room, furnished with a single, white couch. The fabric was torn in various areas and the upholstery was covered in multicolored stains.

"Where is he?" Will inquired as she carefully seated herself on a squishy cushion. It had so much give that she thought she would sink to the bottom of the couch.

"He ran after I called the cops," the woman responded softly.

"Do you know where he ran to? Any ideas?"

"No."

"Your name?"

"Debbie. Debbie Mitchell."

"And your husband's name?"

"Trevor."

"I need you to tell me everything that happened. Don't leave out a single detail. Once you're done I'll have you fill this out," Will explained, pointing to the witness statements on her clipboard.

"All right, dear," Debbie sighed, shaking her head slightly, "it started when we were arguing over finances. At first we were yelling, but then he started insulting me," Debbie paused, her body beginning to tremble.

"What kind of insults? What did he say?"

"He called me a 'fucking bitch' and t-t-told me that I was... that I was..." she stopped, her arms and hands quaking like fall leaves. Tears rolled down her face.

"I know it's hard, but you have to continue. I need this information so I can help you." Will felt guilty pushing this woman, but she knew that it was the only way to get what she required, and Debbie was safe in her presence.

Debbie dabbed at her eyes with a tissue and sniffled loudly before continuing. "He told me that I was worthless and that was when he, you know... St-st-started beating me." She paused again, taking some time to right herself.

"H-H-He backed me up against that wall," Debbie indicated the wall behind her, her hand shaking, "and scratched me," she gestured to her cheeks, "and punched me in the eye several times. And I... I kept trying to get free, y-y-yelled at him to st-st-stop," Debbie collapsed into wracking sobs, stumbled over to the couch, plopping down and burrowing her face in a throw pillow.

"Debbie, take a few minutes to calm down and we'll continue when you feel better, 'kay? How does that sound?" Will soothed, briefly patting her back. She felt her heart sink. She couldn't fathom why a man would do such a thing to his wife. Spouses were supposed to love another and make each other feel safe. Their purpose was to provide comfort and support, not to instill a sense of fear in someone that they knew so intimately. The thought of the opposite happening, acts that were blatantly malevolent, was enough to make her physically sick.

Will cringed as she watched Debbie wail, immersed in a state of destitute. She couldn't begin to imagine what this woman had been through. There was no way that she would ever relate, nor did she want to; but she was there to assist her in any way that she could, and Will hoped she could make her life a little easier...

Debbie let out a delayed "yes" in response, temporarily pulling her back to the present. Will spent the next few minutes distracting herself by eyeing the house for signs of physical evidence. The part of the wall that Debbie pointed out didn't contain any blood stains, but as Will glanced down at the sofa cushions, she observed that were various sized brown splotches scattered across the fabric.

"I'm r-r-ready, Officer Olsen," Debbie said, tearing Will away from her scrutiny of the furniture.

"Are these blood stains?" Will pointed to them and Debbie nodded. "Is this _your_ blood?" She provided the younger woman with a statement in the affirmative. Will felt bile rise to her throat. She swallowed, quickly pushing it back down. "How many times has Trevor beaten you?" she continued dutifully, in spite of her increasing nausea.

"He's done it twice before."

"How come you didn't call us? He shouldn't be doing this to his wife someone he's supposed to love. He shouldn't be walking the streets if he's hurting you," Will said fiercely, her eyes blazing.

"I was scared. He made sure of that," Debbie looked down at the silver wedding ring that Will wore on her left hand, "wouldn't you be afraid if your husband hurt you, Officer Olsen?"

Will nearly jumped at the question. The thought of such a grotesque scenario shook Will to her core, making her eyes expand to the size of saucers. The bile returned to her throat. She took a deep breath, casting the thought away, for there was no way in hell that it would happen. "My husband would never hurt me," she stated in a matter of fact tone, giving the woman a pointed look that told her to proceed with her story.

"After he stopped punching me, I kneed him in the groin and that took him down for a while. That was when I called the cops and he ran," Debbie finished simply in an unwavering voice, something that surprised Will.

"What about your clothes?"

"I – I –" she hesitated, and for an instant Will thought she was going to start crying again.

"You what? I need to know, Debbie."

"I... I did that..."

"Okay. Were there any witnesses?"

"My daughter, ma'am. I didn't notice her until Trevor fled. She was silent, just watching."

"Was your daughter harmed in any way?"

"No, ma'am."

"Has Trevor ever hurt her?" Debbie shook her head.

"Would she mind giving me her story while you fill this paperwork out? It's a written witness's statement for office records and the court." Will handed Debbie her clipboard full of papers and a pen.

"She'd be all right with that." Debbie called for her daughter, and after a few moments, a girl scampered down the staircase, walking into the living room. She appeared to be around age eight and had thick chestnut colored hair and melancholy hazel eyes. She was just as scrawny as her mother.

"Honey, I need you tell this policewoman everything that you saw. Don't leave anything out or exaggerate."

The apprehensive girl nodded and recounted her memories to Will, stammering at times like Debbie had, and engaging in a significant amount of crying. She paused frequently, gratefully taking tissues and shoulder rubs from Debbie and then resuming when she calmed.

The situation had made Will feel slightly perturbed. Watching the girl sob and quiver made her think of Kaley and how she would react if she ever witnessed violence, but Will continued with the routine process, having the girl fill out a written report. She became so intensely focused on her writing that her demeanor became completely docile. She returned it to Will once she was done, looking her straight in the eye.

"What's your name?" she asked innocently.

"Officer Olsen," Will said, offering her a sweet smile, something that vanished when she peered into her anguished eyes. They were grief stricken, making her look far older than the child that she was. They were eyes that should be warm and alight with happiness, not filled with rueful and dark emotions, Will thought.

"What's yours?" Will asked in an attempt to distract herself.

"Amelia."

"That's a pretty name. I have a daughter at home. Kaley. She's five, and her brother Travis is four."

"Do they have a good dad?"

Will's heart sank again as she comprehended the unfairness of Amelia's situation, something that hit somewhat close to home. "Yes, they have a very good dad."

"They're lucky," Amelia said in a disheartened tone.

At these words, Will's chest felt completely hollow and her emotions began to escalate. Hot tears prickled at the back of her eyes, destroying her carefully crafted wall of professionalism. She wrapped Amelia in a fervent embrace, breaking her usual "no physical contact with crime victims" rule and resting her cheek against her head. The tears trickled down Will's face, dripping onto Amelia's hair. Amelia wound her arms around the older woman, gripping her securely. They remained locked in a hug for a minute until Amelia extracted herself.

"Are you crying?"

Will wouldn't have been surprised if she had a deer in the headlights expression on her face. She contemplated lying and saying, "_'Course not. You know us policewomen. We have to keep a stiff upper lip. No tears allowed!"_ but that would be futile. What was the use in denying the obvious?

Instead, Will slowly nodded, looking at Amelia full in the face. The girl gave her a shocked gaze, as if to ask Will why she was crying. "It's all right, Amelia. I'm fine."

"Are you sure?" She continued to look distressed.

"Yes. Don't worry. You have enough to be concerned about already."

"Okay," Amelia replied, watching Will as she wiped her eyes on the sleeve of her uniform. As she finished drying her tears, Will thought about her next steps. She needed to get back to the station to write up the case and gather some co-workers that would help her locate Trevor.

She cleared her throat with intent, gaining the family's attention. "I've gotta head out, guys. Everything will be all right. Debbie, you and Amelia need to get out of here and stay with a relative or a friend until we've found Trevor. Then we'll take it from there."

Will dug around in the pocket of her uniform, handing Debbie a card. "That's the number to the domestic abuse hotline. Call them and schedule an appointment with one of the social workers. They're great. You'll be in good hands."

Debbie gave her a look of understanding, inclining her head slightly and taking the card. "We've got this. The two of you will be fine," she reassured, grabbing her possessions. She bade them a final goodbye and returned to the patrol car, feeling emotionally drained as she drove back to the police station.

* * *

Will sighed in relief when she entered her house later that afternoon, closing and locking the front door. She was finally home, free from the burdens of work. She strode into the living room with ease, instantly catching sight of Matt, who was comfortably ensconced on the couch. He looked up at Will and grinned at her.

"Hey. How was your day?" He stood, meeting her in the middle of the room, drawing her into a hug, and giving her an abbreviated kiss.

"It wasn't exactly a cake walk," she answered candidly, hoping that her expression didn't give away her underlying emotions.

"What happened?" Matt asked, his eyes glazed over with concern. He took her hand in his.

"I'll tell you about it after I change," Will evaded the inquiry, "how are the kids?"

"Great. They're playing up in Travis's room."

"Good," Will's arms snaked back around him, her hold tightening on her husband, "and how was your day, Mr. Olsen?" A hint of a smile tugged at her lips.

"Tiring. Kaley and I chased after Travis for half the morning. He collapsed after lunch and he's been calm ever since. Must've been a food induced coma," Matt theorized.

"I wouldn't be surprised. Food makes him almost as relaxed as Kaley."

"You're telling me. I haven't heard a single scream or squeal."

"Wow. It's a miracle. The Olsen household is actually quiet." Matt laughed in response, letting Will withdraw from his hold.

"I'm gonna say hi to them. Be back in a little." She pecked him and turned away, ascending the staircase that led to the second floor, and sauntering down the hallway until she reached a door on the left. Will gingerly opened it, surveying Travis's room. He and Kaley were sitting on top of his gray area rug, playing with one of his train sets.

"How are my two favorite rascals?" she said, capturing their attention.

"Mommy!" Kaley cried, dropping her toys. She and Travis ran over to Will. Kaley engulfed her in a firm embrace.

Will laughed, crooking her arms around her daughter and holding her close. "How was your day, sweetie?"

"Good. Daddy and I chased _him_ around and around 'til we fainted." Kaley jabbed a tiny finger in Travis's direction. He glowered at his sister in reaction.

"'Til you fainted, huh? That's not what your dad told me, but he said that it made you tired."

"It did. Travis is too hyper. He eats too much sugar."

"No, I don't! Kaley's lying!" Travis said desperately, sticking his tongue out at her.

"No, I'm not. You're the liar!"

"Stop it, you two," Will scolded. The children silenced, "so that's what your daddy's been feeding him?" She arched an eyebrow, thinking that Matt would receive an earful if Kaley was telling the truth.

"No, but he acts like it. And sometimes he sneaks cookies when Dad's doing the laundry." Travis glared at her again. Will hoisted Kaley into her arms in a protective vise, allowing the child to snuggle into her.

"Don't tell Travis this, but I'm gonna tell your dad about the cookies. That way the house will be quieter during the day. Do you like that idea?" she whispered conspiratorially into her ear.

"I like it a lot," Kaley whispered back. "Did you bust a lot of bad guys today?" she asked, her voice becoming exuberant.

"Yeah," Will paused, her torso feeling heavy with sorrow as she thought of Debbie and Amelia. Her clutch on Kaley became more restrictive and possessive, "I busted some really awful guys today," she said this with intent, cognizant of the loaded message behind her words.

"Were they robbers? Murderers? Did you shoot 'em?" Travis questioned anxiously.

"No, silly. We were robber and murderer free today. And I didn't use my gun. Did _you_ shoot anyone at work today, you little imp?" she retorted, smirking.

"Mommy, I'm too young for a job!"

"No, you're not. You already have one. It's to give your father a hard time. You're a pro at it." Travis and Kaley giggled, the former giving Will a curious look once he had recovered.

"Then what did you do?"

"I – We –" Will stammered, feeling like she was at a loss for words. She wanted to tell her children the truth, but she didn't want to horrify them. "I found out about a guy who did some bad things to his family. His wife told me about him and now we're trying to find him. Me, Sheriff Berkeley, and Sergeant Decker. Remember them?"

Travis and Kaley nodded. "Will you tell us when you find him, Mommy?" Travis said as Will carefully set Kaley on the floor and pulled her son into a protective hug.

"Yes, honey, I'll tell you. You two and Dad will be the first to know. I promise." Travis clung to Will, burying his head in her leg. She stooped low and kissed his dark locks, holding him a little while longer before releasing him. "You two be good. I need to get out of this uniform."

The children gave her parting smiles, resuming their play. Will departed and set out down the hall, knowing that the familiarity of her's and Matt's bedroom would provide her with a sense of comfort. She couldn't help but grin when she was secluded within its confines. The warm gold color of the walls made the tension in her body melt away just as she expected. She rid herself of her uniform, replacing it with a shirt and a pair of sweatpants.

Taking a few minutes to savor the tranquility of her surroundings, she lay down on the taupe comforter, inhaling the fragrance of laundry detergent. It smelled like lavender, familiar and calming to the senses. She wanted to remain this way, isolated in the peacefulness of her room where she could forget about her day. Perhaps Matt would come upstairs and find her here and the environment would bring her into a lull, making it easier for her to confide in him about what she'd seen.

Oh, who was she kidding? She'd have to tell him regardless, the setting be damned. Will rose, exiting her sanctuary and returning to the living room. Matt, it seemed, hadn't moved from his previous spot. He was just standing there, stationary, with an expectant look on his face. Will approached him with a vague smile. She nestled herself into his grasp, embracing him. Her clutch on him became fierce and she stiffened when memories from that afternoon continued to flow back into her mind.

She glanced up at him, not doubting for a second that he saw the pain in her eyes. He rubbed her back soothingly, his gaze searching hers. "What's wrong, babe? What happened today?"

Will didn't respond. She began contemplating how she was going to tell him about the day's events. She refocused on Matt when his grip became looser. His hands ghosted up to her waist and Will was suddenly walking backwards, her heart hammering erratically in her chest. Her hands quivered at their spot on Matt's back and her body trembled as he guided her, directing her towards the couch.

Will felt perplexed and more than a little worried. Why was she reacting to a simple gesture with such irrationality? They'd done this several times before. It was a convenient method to get to the sofa where they could snuggle as well as talk, a practice that helped them cast aside the day's anxieties.

Somewhere in the inner-workings of Will's psyche, she felt unsafe, and unnecessarily so. Perhaps it had to do with Debbie and Amelia and the fact that she and her co-workers were going to begin the search for Trevor the following day. And there was another factor... Debbie had mentioned that Trevor backed her up against a wall before he had assaulted her; and now Will was being guided to the sofa by her own husband while her mind was a jumble of conflicted and frenetic thoughts.

"Matt, stop, please," she said steadily. Her arms came loose and she held a hand out in front of her in a halting action.

He obeyed, ending their progress towards the couch. "Will, I don't understand. You were going to tell me about work, and now you're... Well, I don't know what you're doing. What's the matter?"

"I – I –" she faltered, holding onto him for support and looking up at him solemnly, "I kind of had to deal with two domestic violence cases today. Severe ones."

A look of understanding dawned on Matt's face. Then his eyes expanded. "Two? In a _day?_ But you rarely deal with those."

"I know. Usually Berkeley or Decker cover domestic violence. I take down the pot and heroin dealers." Will found herself chuckling humorlessly.

"Wanna tell me more about it? You don't have to if you don't feel comfortable." His hands moved to her cheeks and he caressed them.

She leaned her cheek into one of his palms. "I'm fine with it," her eyes locked on his, "Sanders made me take the second call at around noon. The woman's name was Debbie and she had a daughter about three years older than Kaley. Her name was Amelia. She... She... Sort of, ummm..." Will's voice shook.

Matt gathered her into his arms, touching his body to hers. "I'm here, Will. I've got you."

"I know." Will bit her lip, fighting back tears for the second time that day. She inhaled and exhaled deeply, calming herself. When she felt ready to go on, she continued. "She watched it. She watched her dad back her mom up against a wall and – and... you know..." her words died on her lips. Will rested her head on Matt's chest.

"Oh my god." Matt sounded baffled, just like how Will had felt earlier that day. Just like how she _still_ felt. "That's horrible! That's... That's disgusting!" His voice was harsh as he said this. "No wonder you were shaking when I was walking you over here."

Will raised her head, peering up at him. "I wasn't thinking straight. I was thinking about work..."

"It's okay. I get it," he was silent for a while. Then his mind seemed to shift gears. His train of thought darted back to Amelia, "a girl, Will. A little girl. I can't believe it. You didn't see anything, did you? Was the man there?"

"No. I saw nothing. And the man was gone. He fled from the house when Debbie called the station. Berkeley, Decker, and I are going to start looking for him tomorrow."

"Stay safe. And would you mind calling and checking in once you're done? I'd like to know that you're okay."

"Yeah. That's fine. I'll probably be shouting "We found him!" into the phone really loud, so prepare for an eardrum assault."

"Will do." He shot her a broad smile.

"Are we gonna cuddle up on this comfy couch or what? We don't have all day," she teased, beaming at him.

"I'd like that."

Matt's hands traveled back down to Will's waist. He walked the both of them over to the sofa and lifted her into his arms. She chortled as he settled them onto the cushions, snuggling into him and clasping her hands at the nape of his neck. Matt continued to hold Will at her middle. He touched his forehead to hers, gazing at her solemnly. His eyes were both intense and benign.

"Will?"

"Yeah?"

"You're safe here, babe. Always. I promise." He squeezed her, showing her that he was referring to his arms.

"Same here. I promise, too. I'll never hurt you. No matter how mad I get." She laughed silently along with him.

"You know what else?"

"Hmm?"

"I'm proud of you. You work so hard to keep us safe. Then you come home and cook for us on the nights that it's your turn, and god, you're amazing." He emphasized his praise with a light kiss.

"I'm not the only one who works hard. You work your butt off here, taking care of the kids and keeping things in order. You make my life easier, you awesome Mr. Mom," she returned his kiss, whispering to him once she had broken away, "you're just as amazing, Matt."

"I'm hot, too, y'know," he joked, winking at her.

Will burst into laughter, playfully slapping his stomach and murmuring something that sounded like, "Mood killer!" under her breath.

"Just playing. We make a good team, huh?"

"A darn good team," she corrected, suddenly emitting a loud yawn.

"Looks like it's time for someone's two hour nap."

"Mmhmm," Will uttered wearily, resting her head on a throw pillow. She shifted against him, closing her eyes.

"Sleep well." Matt kissed her forehead.

It didn't take long for her to drift into an ease filled sleep. Matt lay there for a while, just watching her doze peacefully. He glanced up when he heard the unexpected sound of footsteps. Kaley was approaching him with a curious expression on her face.

"Mom's already taking her nap?" she asked, stopping in front of him.

"Yeah. I think I'm going to get some sleep, too, courtesy of Travis the troublemaker."

"Can I nap with you and Mommy?"

"Sure, Kaley-bug," he scooted against the cushions at the back of the couch, making room for her, "be careful. We don't want to wake her up. She's had a long day."

"Stop calling me that!" Kaley ordered in a voice that indicated a sense of injustice. She cautiously navigated herself in between her parents so that she was settled in Matt's arms.

"Stop calling you what?" He pretended to be clueless, tucking a wayward lock of red hair behind her ear.

"_Kaley-bug!_" she huffed, crossing her arms over her chest and slapping his hand away.

"I'm your dad. I can call you whatever I want."

"But – But it's mean!"

"No, it isn't, silly. You're little. Just like a bug," he crooned, brushing his nose across hers and tickling her stomach.

"Daddy!" Kaley cried, giggling and writhing against his dancing fingers.

"What, Kaley-bug?"

"Sto-opp it!" she gasped in between laughs.

"But that's no fun."

"Please?" she pleaded, her blue eyes wide.

"Okay," Matt sighed, easing his arms around his daughter and his wife, holding them near.

Kaley yawned, hugging her father, and letting her eyes flicker shut. Matt kissed her cheek, letting his own eyes close. The two succumbed to a deep slumber with content smiles on their faces.

* * *

When Will awoke she felt two warm, small figures pressed against both sides of her. She opened her eyes, blinking sleep out of them and focusing on the sight in front of her. On her left was Kaley, who was cuddled compactly into Matt's arms. On her right, Will guessed, was Travis. She felt his body nestled tightly against her back and his secure grip on her stomach.

Will grinned, letting her hands drift down to Matt's shoulders. "Matt! Matt, wake up," she said in a low voice, so as not to wake their children.

He stirred, moving around in an unsettled manner. "Will, is that you? Whuzgoin'on?" he slurred groggily.

"Look," she said simply, gesturing from herself to Travis and then to him and Kaley.

"What is this? An Olsen sandwich?" he quipped, smiling affectionately.

"That's what it looks like."

"What time is it, sleeping beauty? You're the one with the watch."

Will let go of Matt, glancing at her watch. "A little after five."

"I should start dinner," he remarked.

"Not without me. I'm helping."

"You should rest more. You need it."

"No, I don't," Will insisted. "I'm good. Let me help you."

"All right. We have to be careful, though," he pointed out needlessly, eyeing their dozing children.

Will gently unlatched Travis's hands, climbing over the couch and onto the floor with discretion. Matt extricated himself from Kaley just as cautiously, lowering himself beside Will. Together they walked to the kitchen, where Matt paused, leaning back against the door of the oven. Will closed the distance between them, placing a hand on either side of him.

"Not anxious to start dinner?" She raised an eyebrow.

"I wanted some proper alone time first." He claimed her lips in a lingering kiss, drawing her to him.

Will's stomach felt light, just as it always did when Matt kissed her. As she returned the affection she thought about how this was all she needed. Her family and her home with Matt. It was something that she treasured. It was something worth fighting for and protecting every day when she went to work, and it was one of the things that really mattered in her life.

* * *

Author's Note: This oneshot was inspired by part of an episode of a reality t.v. show called "The Policewomen of Broward County" that I was watching on Sunday. Specifically, it was a scene where a little girl who'd witnessed domestic violence (it was between her uncle and her mother, not her parents) asked one of the policewomen her name. There wasn't a tearful hug or heartfelt exchange involved, but as soon as I saw that scene, I pictured a little girl asking Will what her name was.

That being said, I had the idea of Will being a policewoman long before I discovered "The Policewomen of Broward County" this weekend. Sweetbriar brought it up when we were brainstorming potential careers for Will, and I agreed with her. So that's where that came from. If any of Sweetbriar's future stories feature Will as a policewoman it's because we share a lot of opinions. Not because she's trying to steal ideas from me or vice versa.

Note to Sweetbriar: You'll have to excuse me borrowing/copying the idea of Matt backing Will up against an inanimate object like you did in "Elemental". I thought you wouldn't mind if I emulated that scenario to a certain extent, but if you want me to delete that scene from my story, I'll do that. I wanted to show a contrast between Matt's gentle intentions in backing Will up against their couch (wanting to cuddle and talk) and Trevor's harmful motivation in backing Debbie up against a wall in their house (abuse). I also thought it'd be cool to show the trust between Will/Matt like you did in your fantastic fic (again, I thought you'd be all right with that), but it seems like the scene didn't quite turn out that way. I like the scene for what it showed, regardless. :D I'll respond to your message soon. As in either later this evening or tomorrow. :) -hugs- I hope that you're doing okay, dearie, and that the nasty wildfire smoke isn't blowing in the direction of your city. Love you! x333

As for Matt being a Mr. Mom... I couldn't help myself. I genuinely love the idea of him staying at home with Kaley and Travis until they both start school. (Yes, Kaley is five in this fic, but she hasn't _quite_ started school yet. This story is set a few months before she starts kindergarten.) I think Matt wouldn't mind being a stay-at-home dad and he'd be more than glad to take on the respective duties. (Cleaning and cooking are split fifty-fifty between Will and Matt, however. ;]) Will would feel the same way about being a housewife, but I like the more modern setup of Mr. Moms--which are increasing. While I am admittedly projecting my feminist values onto this situation, I also chose this for my future W.i.t.c.h.-verse because again, I love the idea, excluding my personal opinions on the underlying matter. I'll probably write a drabbleshot or a oneshot where Will stays home with one of the kids when they're sick (this would be when Will gets her job as a swim coach at Sheffield and Matt returns to his former occupation, Sweetbriar. :) Seeing as it's hard for cops to take time off unless they've gotten another officer, a sheriff, or a sargent to cover for them) to balance things out. So there you go.

Ummm... What else? Oh! I know a lot about police work because one of our close family friends is a former policewoman and I've heard endless stories/have been given a wealth random information from her, so I'm very well informed.

Any sexism towards men in respect to domestic violence is inadvertent. My intention was to show the contrast between a gentle man (and a great husband) like Matt and douche bags like Trevor.

That's it. As per usual, thanks to everyone who faves, reviews, and adds my fics to their communities. I really, _really_ appreciate it! Much love to you! x333

'Till the next time, emeraldflame out!


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